


Small Mercies

by BirdOfHermes



Series: The Thirst Trials [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Doctor/Patient, Dom Loki (Marvel), F/M, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Past Torture, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Avengers (2012), Prisoner Loki (Marvel), Rough Sex, SHIELD, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22538992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdOfHermes/pseuds/BirdOfHermes
Summary: When Loki is brought on board the helicarrier after his capture, you're tasked with completing his physical. It's easier said than done.
Relationships: Loki/Original Female Character, Loki/Reader, Loki/you
Series: The Thirst Trials [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1103739
Comments: 20
Kudos: 461





	Small Mercies

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. This is basic af. Everyone does one of these stories, but the thirst is real, so oh well.

_And you_

_Why you wanna stay?_

_Oh my God!_

_Have you listened to me lately, lately?_

_I've been going crazy_

_And you_

_Why you wanna stay?_

_Oh my God!_

_Have you listened to me lately, lately?_

_I've been fuckin' crazy!_

_There are some nights I wait for someone to save us_

_But I never look inward_

_Try not to look upward_

_And some nights I pray a sign is gonna come to me_

_But usually, I'm just trying to get some sleep_

_Some nights!_

_-"Some Nights (Intro)" by Fun._

You’d never seen a god before. Not in the flesh, at least.

Thor had just recently been by, but you’d missed him when he escorted the prisoner, much to your dismay. You hoped to be able to meet him, if time permitted. You’d heard great things about him from Agent Coulson. Naturally, this wouldn’t be the time since you and the whole world were at war with Loki, but you still would like to knock that one off the Bucket List.

But no. Instead, you were stuck with _this_ motherfucker.

Loki of Asgard.

The God of Mischief.

You stared into the exam room, chewing your lower lip. The demigod had said almost nothing once he’d been dropped off in the room, still wearing his handcuffs, looking huge and powerful against the backdrop of medical equipment. He’d seated himself on the exam table by now, looking surly and bored, flatout ignoring the six guards currently on the edges of the room to be sure he didn’t misbehave.

“This is a bad idea,” you muttered. Then you sighed and pushed the door open to enter.

Loki flicked his gaze up at you as you entered. A calculating look swept over his pale face. He scrutinized you deeply within the first few seconds, almost like he could see through you, read your thoughts. You took a deep breath, cleared your throat, and addressed the god before you.

“Loki, I am a physician. I have been asked to examine you and assess your injuries to be sure there is nothing that will cause you immediate harm while you are a SHIELD prisoner. Do you consent to this exam?”

Loki stared at you. Your skin tingled everywhere his eyes passed over you. He made a lazy path down your body—over the lab coat, the pencil skirt, the dress shirt, the flats—and said nothing in reply. You gave him a moment and then tried again.

“I can assure you that it is non-invasive and harmless. It will only be an external exam and a mobile X-ray to determine that you don’t have any broken bones or internal bleeding.”

“I am not debasing myself in front of your merry band of idiots so that you may poke and prod me, woman,” he finally growled. “No, I do not consent to the examination.”

He then sent a withering glare at you and then the men surrounding him, their guns pointed. You weighed your options, noticing his hunched posture and fidgeting with the handcuffs. Well, maybe it was time to gamble a bit based on his psychological profile.

“Gentlemen,” you said to the SHIELD agents guarding him. “Would you please step outside?”

“Doctor,” one of them started, frowning, but you held up a hand.

“Coulson gave me strict orders to have this exam completed. It will be easier for everyone if you vacate the exam room. I’m perfectly safe on my own.”

Loki snorted and rolled his eyes. You bristled, but didn’t respond. The guards shared wary looks, but sighed and marched out of the room. You locked it behind them with your keycard and turned to the prisoner, who by now looked faintly amused. “Loki, I am going to undo your cuffs. Is that alright?”

“I believe that is very unwise of you, little mouse,” he murmured, his eyes glinting hungrily. “But I will not protest.”

You strode over and undid them. His wrists were reddened and bruised. They were too small for someone his size with his strength. It looked painful, but he didn’t show any signs of discomfort. He just kept staring at you as if sizing you up. “I could snap your neck right now, you know.”

You smiled and reached into your pocket, holding up an object the size of a pen. “Do you know what this is, Loki?”

“No.”

“This is a device that can deliver twelve million volts of electricity. Thor informed Coulson that electricity of an insanely high voltage will render you immobile. You have two choices: one, consent to the exam and be rid of me in about thirty minutes, or two, continue being a pain-in-my-ass and I zap you with this thing and do the exam anyway. Keep in mind, even with you being a god, this is going to fry your brains like an egg in a cast iron skillet.”

Your sweet smile widened. “Again, I ask you, will you consent to the physical, Loki?”

The scowl on his face could curdle milk. He glanced between the weapon and you and let out a low growl that vibrated up your spine. “You have quite the nerve, little mouse.”

“So they tell me. Yes or no?”

Slowly, Loki’s lips spread into a smirk. “Very well, Midgardian. I consent to the physical.”

You slipped the device back into your pocket. “Good. I will need you to undress and remain standing for a short while.”

“No.”

You frowned at him. “What do you mean ‘no’? You just said you consented.”

“And here is your first lesson in dealing with a trickster god,” Loki purred. “You failed to set the terms, little mouse. Yes, I consent to the exam, but you did not forbid me from being inactive during said physical. Therefore, I do not have to lift a finger to help. You are the one performing it.”

The smirk widened into a sinister grin. “So you will undress me.”

Your hands clenched into fists. You knew you were being recorded, so you had to carefully measure your response when in reality you wanted to jab a syringe into his forehead. He knew he couldn’t do much, but he could certainly be an asshole to you without repercussions.

Seething, you grabbed his right arm and lifted it, examining the gauntlets on his forearms. It fit together with a button that clasped it over his sleeve, so you hit that and they unbuckled. You set them aside, feeling his highly amused gaze all over you as you moved. Next, you got on your tiptoes and pushed off the long trailing coat over his base armor and tossed it to one side, hoping the clinking noise it made on the floor meant you’d scratched it up some. Bastard deserved it.

Loki’s armor was ostentatious and yet beautifully made. It had intricate woven patterns, reliable leathers, and ornate gold pieces. It covered him almost entirely in what you concluded was probably like an alien Kevlar, but yet it was light and breathable as well.

And you had no idea how he’d gotten it on.

You didn’t see any zippers or buttons, but you were sure it wasn’t just a single piece he pulled over his head from how it fit his upper body. Loki, the bastard, stood there smirking at you as you stared at him in contemplation, trying to figure out how to get it off him.

“My legs are getting tired, mortal,” he drawled. “Do you intend to stand here forever looking foolish?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, forgetting yourself for a second. “It’s not my fault this contraption makes no sense.”

You moved behind him, checking for straps of some sort, but no luck—just more leather and, admittedly, a tight, round ass. You truly hated the fact that this bastard was so attractive, and that he was apparently very much aware of it. You finally sighed as you walked around to face him. “Can you at least be bothered to give me a hint?”

“Yes,” he said boredly. “It’s possible to remove the bloody thing.”

You rolled your eyes and just ignored him, pressing your fingers and palms over his torso in random spots where a garment would normally have some kind of button or strap. Loki’s upper body shook with suppressed, mocking laughter and you wanted to deck him even more. “Look, we don’t have all day, would you just—”

“For Norn’s sake,” he hissed, grabbing your hand and pressing it just above his left pectoral. You noticed the panel fit into the next one, but it was slightly raised. You pressed it and it popped open, revealing four hidden buttons that locked into place.

“Finally,” you groused, undoing the buttons one at a time. His stare didn’t waver, even with you mere inches away, on your tiptoes to reach. You parted the cloth finally and pushed it open.

And you nearly lost your breath.

Loki’s chest was covered in bruises and scars.

Most of which were _not_ recent.

To his credit, he was lithe and his chest rippled with muscles, the kind that suggested agility and grace. A light sheen of sweat had formed on his skin, giving it a slight glisten under the harsh overhead lighting. The armor covered all the way to his waist, which was narrow and just as fit as the rest of him, the firm skin over his abs pulled tight against the muscles as well. His fights hadn’t broken the skin anywhere, but you spotted many ugly bruises stamped on his abdomen and biceps. You hoped you hadn’t taken a long look, but based on his smug smirk, you probably had stared a little too long. Damn it.

You set the upper half of his armor aside and cleared your throat as you prepared yourself for the next inevitable indignity. “Do Asgardians wear underwear?”

“Under-what?” he asked.

“Undergarments beneath your trousers.”

His smirk widened into a positively filthy grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, choosing not to respond. He chuckled. “You are a physician, woman. You have no doubt seen dozens of naked men. Why does it matter?”

“It’s cold in here and I don’t want you to get sick if you’re naked under there,” you said, exasperated. “Would it kill you to simply answer the question?”

“Would it kill you to simply use your brain?” he sneered. “I am wearing armor. It would chafe me to a ridiculous extent if I did not have something beneath my britches.”

“There,” you grumbled. “That’s all you had to say. Jesus Christ.”

You pointed at his feet. “Can you at least kick those off first?”

He rolled his eyes and toed off his heavy boots, as if it were some great chore. Then he crossed his arms and gave you that same infuriating, penetrative stare, raising a dark eyebrow. “Well?”

“Asshole,” you muttered, reaching for his pants. There was a flap in front that hid two thick leather ties. Your cheeks burned as you untied them, for you knew Loki’s gaze was intently focused on you to truly enjoy your momentary humiliation. Worse still, your fingers brushed against what felt like a rather sizeable cock as you pulled the fabric loose to get it off his waist and legs. He wore a dark, simple boxer-like garment beneath. You blushed as you realized his pants was so form fitting that you’d have to reach around his body to push it off. You glared up at him for a moment.

“You’re really not going to help?”

He gave you a toothy grin. “I am a prisoner, little doctor. I have no compunctions to be of any help to you or your kind.”

You growled again and gripped the rear of his trousers, pushing downward to get them off, and consequently, getting a whole faceful of his bare chest. Your fingertips also brushed past that taut ass of his, which made him exhale unconsciously, and you felt a slight vibration against your tummy as he hummed a little bit. It had only been a couple seconds of touch, yet he seemed…hungry for it.

You had to kneel to get the pants past his legs and off his feet, and Loki definitely liked that. He gave you a cruel smile from where he towered, lifting your chin with two fingers, his eyes gleaming with lust. “This is a good look for you, mortal.”

You slapped his hand away and moved towards the prep table, grumbling insults to yourself. You returned with the mobile X-ray device, which was a transparent screen about the size of a large textbook, and shoved him to sit. He obeyed without complaint for once, an inquisitive look on his face as he observed you. You flipped it on and took a look at his internal organs, watching his breaths. He wasn’t taking full ones, you noted. There was a bruise over the right side that was likely the cause. He may have hurt his ribs. No fractures, though. You checked his arms and then his skull as well, concluding that none of his bones were broken or splintered. You set it aside and steeled yourself for the next part, which meant stepping between those long, long legs of his. You didn’t bother to rub it against your hand to warm it up either, so it was a bit funny as he hissed as the cold little cup hit his chest. You listened to his heartbeat, picking the appropriate spots, interested that Asgardian’s hearts beat quite a bit faster than human’s, and yet he breathed far slower. You checked his pulse next, noting that he tensed once your fingers closed around his wrist. The cuffs had hurt him, then.

Most of all, you couldn’t help getting flustered as you checked his eyes, as it meant getting extremely close to him. You had to balance a hand on his shoulder since he was so damned tall, but not tall enough that you needed a step stool. He showed no signs of a concussion, to your relief. It would be hard to figure out how to treat an alien for that sort of thing.

You got off your toes as you finished, but swayed a little dangerously from overcompensating. Loki’s hand shot out to catch you, entirely on instinct, so you found yourself pressed down the front of his body for a couple of stunned seconds, and your professionalism started to die off as you realized how damn good it felt in his arms.

“Careful, little mouse,” he murmured, flexing his fingers over the small of your back, dangerously close to your ass.

You wriggled yourself free and tried to calm your heart. “Right, so you’re pretty banged up, but there’s no broken bones and you don’t have a concussion. I can wrap your chest to take care of that rib that’s bothering you and give you something for the pain as well as the bruising.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at you. “Again, why are you doing this when I am your prisoner? What use is it if I am healthy?”

“You have to be alive enough to surrender the Tesseract at some point,” you snarked back. “So yes, I mean to heal you even though you’re a prisoner. Do you consent to treatment?”

He gave you that long, slow pass over your body again. “Very well.”

You fetched your items and held them up one by one, indicating what they were. “Antiseptic cream. Gauze. Q-tips.”

Loki snorted softly, but said nothing. You snapped on gloves and returned to that unnerving personal space with the alien prince. Yet again, Loki’s eyes roved over you. You couldn’t help but notice their peculiar color, that ocean blue with a ring of emerald green at the center. Intelligence and malevolence swirled in those frozen depths. You weren’t keen on giving him a reason to act on whatever the hell made him start breathing faster once you approached.

“Does this hurt?” you asked absently before starting on the first bruise above his right collarbone.

“No,” Loki grunted disinterestedly.

You checked in with him before treating the smattering of bruises. He just made dissenting noises after a while, until you reached the one over the hurt rib. He caught your wrist and gave you a vicious glare.

“That,” he hissed, squeezing hard. “ _Does_ hurt, mortal. Have a care.”

“Okay,” you said, hoping he couldn’t hear your voice wavering. “Okay, Loki. Let me go.”

He blinked slowly and then glanced down, as if only now realizing he’d grabbed you. He let go. His posture worried you. He seemed feral, almost, as if he’d expected you to exploit the injury.

“I can give you painkillers,” you said quietly. “It’ll make it stop hurting.”

“I came here for war,” he said in a dull tone, staring ahead as if seeing past you. “War is pain.”

You couldn’t help glancing over his numerous scars. “You look like you just came back from one.”

His breathing stilted. His gaze turned hot and accusatory. “What would you know of that, mortal?”

“Loki,” you said. “I am not here to hurt you.”

“Your people are,” he snarled.

“You came here! Not the other way around, Loki.”

“And when I am done with you all, you will thank me in droves for freeing you from the oppression of choice. Your small mind cannot possibly comprehend what I have come to do.”

“I don’t care what you came here to do. My job, right now, is to fix you.”

“What is your point, mortal?”

“I’m not going to abuse you.”

His eyes widened. You had his attention, so you leapt for the opportunity before he could interject. “I don’t know what happened to you before you got here, but whatever it is, it won’t happen here. I took an oath to become a doctor. It doesn’t matter if you’re my enemy, our enemy. I’m going to do my job. It will be easier to do it if you are honest with me about your pain levels.”

He studied you for a long, tense moment. “What makes you think I am being dishonest about it?”

“You flinch each time I touch you,” you said gently. “Not hard, but you’re still doing it. You’re in more pain than you’re letting on. Or…”

You winced, not wanting to finish that sentence, for you knew it would likely set him off again. He eyed you. “Or what?”

“Or,” you murmured. “You’re touch starved.”

Something pained flitted across his features. He swallowed. “You are more perceptive than you appear, little mouse.”

“Sorry,” you told him with a weak smile. “Couldn’t help but notice. The scars haven’t healed completely. Whoever did this to you…did so within the last year, I'd wager. So I would also wager you haven’t been touched gently in a while. Your wounds haven’t healed right, even though you’re a god.”

Something around his eyes flinched, but he kept his face unreadable. “Yes.”

You took another risk. “I have something for the scars, if you want.”

“They do not matter,” he said numbly. “I will acquire more before this day is done.”

He sounded…profoundly sad suddenly. “You chose this.”

“Yes. I did. You need not concern yourself with old wounds.”

“Fine. I won’t.”

He smiled faintly. “Do you worry for all your patients this way?”

“Just the ones who look as if they’d been thrown into a wood chipper.” You stepped around behind him, happy to be spared his intense gaze for a while as you treated the bruises along his back. There were several lash marks along his upper back. Your stomach clenched. You told yourself not to feel sorry for this bastard who came here to conquer the human race.

But it still didn’t work.

You treated the bruises one at a time. Loki’s breathing elevated, though you could hear him struggling to regulate himself not to do so. You suspected if you had more time with him that you’d find him to have PTSD as well. You knew the color of his skin and the dark circles beneath his eyes would indicate insomnia, chronic nightmares, and other sleep-related problems. You knew the scars over his knuckles had come from battle after battle to save his own life. Beneath the reddened flesh of the SHIELD cuffs were older scars from being held against his will by something that burned. The more you treated him, the more you realized Loki was a mirror. He inflicted this agony on the people of earth, for this is what had been done to him.

When was the last time anyone showed him kindness?

“I’m going to wrap your chest,” you said, reaching for the gauze. “Sit up straight.”

He obeyed without comment this time. “Hold this end.”

Again, he did so. You carefully started. However, it required your arms to wrap around his entire body on occasion, and Loki shuddered he felt your arms encircling him. Your throat tightened. You had no idea what the hell was the matter with you. It wasn’t as if a hug would make him any less monstrous.

And yet…

You finished wrapping his chest and walked around to face him and double-check your work. His long legs hadn’t been touched much, aside from a few red marks on his shins from jumping and rolling around during his assault on the SHIELD base. It would heal on its own.

You peeled off the gloves and touched his forearm, checking for tender spots, then opened his hand, palm up, checking the wrist marks. “You’re sure these aren’t bothering you?”

“They will heal,” he murmured, and something in his tone made you glance up at him. You saw something resting on his features that you couldn’t quite categorize. He wanted. He just…wanted. You weren’t sure what, but you knew it in your gut.

His hand was still spread out. You let your fingertips travel down the center of his palm, across his fingers. His eyelids fluttered. “What are you doing?” he asked roughly.

“Testing your nerves,” you lied. “Making sure they haven’t deadened.”

“Mm.” He offered his other arm. You did the same there, watching the tremors that vibrated up his chest as you touched him. Christ, he was damaged goods. This had always been a weakness of yours; empathy for your patients, no matter where they’d come from. You knew you were playing with fire. But you couldn’t seem to stop, not when Loki’s eyes were so fathomless.

“Why are you humoring me?” he asked, though he made no move to draw away from you.

“Why are you letting me humor you?” you countered.

“Perhaps it is part of my devious plan,” he mused.

“To do what?”

“Open your eyes to the truth.”

“Which is?”

Loki leaned down towards your ear. Self-preservation told you to grab for the weapon, but it wasn’t your first thought, unfortunately. “To seduce you.”

You snorted. “I take it back. Maybe you do have head trauma.”

“No more than you. I am the scourge of Midgard and yet you treat me with compassion: giving me privacy when you knew the guards would make me anxious, reassuring me that I will come to no harm during a simple procedure, providing me with the sanctity of your touch when I have done nothing but antagonize you since we met.”

He rose over you, inches away. You knew he could hurt you—really hurt you, and hell, kill you in an instant—and yet it wasn’t fear that flowed through you. It was something far stranger and more potent. He was fascinating in the way that a big cat was fascinating; something you admired from a distance, for you knew a close encounter would end you.

“You are an odd little mortal. I could crush you so very easily, long before you could defend yourself, and yet you offer yourself to me so freely.”

He licked his lower lip, his eyes straying towards your neck. “A fine tribute indeed.”

There should have been a lot of red flags by now, but that one finally broke through your addled brains. The guards would’ve been listening to the feed to be sure he hadn’t tried to hurt you or that there hadn’t been any misconduct. You frowned at the door, expecting one to knock to tell you to get away from him, but they didn’t.

Loki chuckled. “And so the little mouse finally catches on.”

You turned to him again. “What did you do?”

“Your Midgardian technology is no match for my magic. I have placed a simple concealment spell over the room. It has been going since the armed men stepped out.”

You didn’t move an inch. “Why?”

He touched your chin, lifting it slightly, inhaling your scent. “Why indeed?”

Your heart raced. You studied him, his posture, his rolling baritone with a hint of teasing to it. “This isn’t a conjugal visit, Loki.”

Loki chuckled. “It could be, if you wish it to be so.”

“I’d rather not be branded a traitor, thanks.”

“Only if you were to be caught.” He leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to your pulse on the right side. You shivered, your eyes threatening to close. It felt way, way too good. You hadn’t had a paramour in a while. Neck kisses also made you weak in the knees.

“And I,” he whispered in your ear. “Am a master of committing sins without being caught.”

“Is that why you’re in here?”

“I want to be in here.” He switched to the left side of your neck. “With you.”

His long fingers hooked into your lab coat, tugging you closer. Your hands shot out to balance you, spreading out over his firm, bare chest. Those spindly digits snuck beneath your suit jacket as well, the warmth bleeding through your button-down shirt. Loki’s lips parted wider, his tongue tracing over your pulse, his teeth scraping the delicate skin. Your breath is in shaky gulps. Logic has vacated the premises. You know better. You know he’s a snake. You know he’ll coil around you and steal the breath from your lungs, yet you can’t seem to resist him.

Then he surprised you again.

"When is the last time you've been fucked?"

You sputtered in disbelief, a blush climbing up your neck and all the way past your face into your ears. "Excuse me?"

"When," he repeated impatiently. "Was the last time a man fucked you? Not made love to you. Not copulated with you."

He stood then, towering over you, close enough to nearly bump into you, his warm breath on your cheeks as he peered fearlessly down into your eyes as you stood there transfixed. "When is the last time a man pushed up your dress and pulled down your undergarments and kicked your legs apart and fucked you hard while you screamed in ecstasy, lost to him, seeking only selfish physical gratification?"

You swallowed hard, fighting to stand your ground against his filthy words, the spell he’s cast over you finally subsiding somewhat. "That is none of your goddamn business."

"Ah," the god said then. "So a while, I take it. That is pitiable. You are on edge around me for this reason, you know. You are horrified to find that you are attracted to me but unable to resist it. You're aching inside, right now, wanting to ask a question you should not ask."

He smirked. "And the answer is yes."

"The answer to what?" you demanded.

"Yes, I would like to fuck you. Very much. Very hard. Very fast. Very rough. The only question remaining is if you care to cross that line or will you relegate yourself to your isolation."

“You don’t know anything about me, Loki.”

“I know you seek as I seek. I know your longing, mortal, for it is my own. I can grant you satisfaction, the likes of which you cannot find among the feeble men of your world.”

You scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

The only warning was a flash of his pearly white teeth in a predatory grin.

He scooped you up off your feet and plopped you in his lap faster than you could register. One minute you were standing and the next you’d straddled him on the exam table. He ripped the lab coat from your shoulders and shoved your skirt up past your thighs, forcing you to clutch his shoulders to stay upright rather than being tight to his chest. Your mouth flew open to scream at him, but he cleverly chose that exact moment to kiss you.

And Loki’s kiss was everything.

He licked your mouth open and slid his tongue inside it, his taste slightly bittersweet. He nipped at your lips and groaned as he tasted you in return, sliding a hand up the back of your neck and into your hair. He cupped your neck to control the kiss, his other hand still shifting your skirt up higher until at last you could settle flat to his pelvis, your ass fitting neatly over his groin. Loki growled into your mouth as your weight settled over him, grinding his rapidly hardening cock against your damp panties. He kissed you with wild abandon, as if he were no prisoner, as if he were a king and you his conquest. You struggled in vain, out of a fleeting sense of decorum, pushing against his wide shoulders, but the longer he kissed you, the hotter the fire in your loins grew. Someone was gasping and moaning on every odd breath and you were alarmed to figure out that it was you.

“You want to fuck me on this table,” Loki purred against your lips. “Don’t you, little mortal?”

“No,” you slurred, dizzy from his ravenous kisses and tantalizing touch.

He chuckled and gripped a handful of your ass, rolling his hips to let you feel even more of his cock beneath the thin layers of clothing. “Yes, you do.”

“I don’t—” He swallowed the rest of your protest in another sloppy kiss. You couldn’t stop him. You didn’t really want to. Damn him, he felt so good. His touch made you ache. Your body roared for more of him. You wanted to wipe that stupid, smug look off his face by fucking him into oblivion.

Loki tore his mouth from yours enough to lick your throat, his hands lifting to your shirt to undo the buttons. He found your cleavage next and bit a hickey over your heart, making you flinch and dig your nails into his impenetrable skin. He didn’t seem to care about his injuries any longer, not with the adrenaline from kissing you senseless racing through his veins. Your suit jacket fell next to his armor as he pulled the dress shirt out of the skirt and lavished your chest, your collarbone, your breasts with wet, hungry kisses, both huge hands anchored at your waist to keep rubbing against that titanic cock. You were going to melt into a little puddle if you didn’t seize control.

Finally, you managed to separate yourself from him enough to use a teaspoon of reason. “The exam’s only supposed to be half an hour. We have less than ten minutes left. If I’m going to let you corrupt me, then we have to do it right.”

Loki laughed. “Very well, mortal.”

He swung his legs over until he lay on the exam table, those long legs trailing off the end, nudging your knees further apart so you had the room to straddle him. You intended to cut to the chase, but Loki had other ideas. He pushed your panties aside and crooked a finger into your waiting heat. You cried out and arched your back, which just sunk the slender digit deeper still. You were already wet, but that just made you liquid down below.

“L-Loki,” you stammered, shaking from the aftershock of the pleasure. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Mm, there is always time for pleasure,” he purred, curling the digit enough to make you moan again. “Such a tight little cunt. All for me.”

He licked his lips, staring up at you with those mad eyes, his expression gleeful and eager. “Ride my hand, mortal. Ride it to completion.”

“Bastard,” you accused, but your hips didn’t give a damn about your morals and your ego. Your body shoved itself down against his waiting hand, and he thrust it up into you brutishly, adding a second finger once your inner walls relaxed somewhat. The pleasure was sharp and overwhelming, flickering up over your skin until you felt damp with sweat and exertion from bouncing up and down over his arm. Loki flicked your bra to one side enough to free a nipple, his free hand tweaking and pinching and rolling over it as you moved. It didn’t take long. Your climax hit you quickly and without warning, arching your back over him once more as you claimed it. You broke out in goosebumps all over, shivering as you realized just how wet he’d made you for him.

“Perfect,” Loki breathed, slowing his hand. He reached up with the other and pulled your bun loose, letting your hair flutter against your cheeks. He brought his hand up, still staring at you, and licked his fingers clean. You blushed in spite of yourself, which he liked. He reached down enough to free himself from his undergarment and you nearly headed for the hills. No wonder Loki had such an arrogant swagger. He’d been packing a python under there the whole time.

He gripped your arms and yanked you down to him, kissing you possessively. His breath came in excited gulps of air, his voice ragged and commanding. “Fuck me, mortal.”

Without further preamble, he lowered you onto that long, twitching cock. He spread you open to him, an impossible fit, yet you stretched and stretched and stretched some more until the whole of him rested at your tight center. An inferno nested inside your chest. Loki felt better than anything.

“I’m going to hell,” you bemoaned, your eyes rolling back in your head as a surge of pleasure rushed up your back at being so completely filled.

Loki laughed and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “It is better to be on the right hand of the Devil than in his path.”

He pushed his thumb inside your mouth and you licked and sucked at it obediently, enraptured as it made him moan indulgently. He didn’t give you time to get used to him; he used those narrow hips to quickly lift and drop you onto his cock again and again, never ceasing, the movements smooth and swift. Your head rolled back on your neck as he pounded your sopping wet pussy, his low grunts of desire making you clench him on odd thrusts. It was so wrong, but you loved every damn second of it. You loved fucking this sinister bastard, making him groan with need each time you came down on his cock, satisfying him as much as he was satisfying you. You were a stupid, reckless girl. You could be punished so severely for your actions and you’d deserve it.

But damn, if it didn’t feel phenomenal to sin with the God of Mischief.

“Mm, we have but minutes left before they return,” Loki said. “Be a good girl and come for Loki.”

Your toes curled inside your flats. Oh, no. He couldn’t tell you what to do like that. You were so weak for it, but you craved it. “L-Loki.”

“Yes,” he hissed, his cock pulsing inside you, his hips snapping up to press him deeper. “Yes, that’s it, little mortal. Give it to me. Give me what I want. I want your cunt, darling.”

He slid his hand up around your throat and squeezed, using it as a handle to slam you down onto his cock even faster and harder than before. You cried out for him, too far gone to stop now. “Christ, Loki, oh shit, I’m coming—”

Loki dragged you down to him and kissed you as you came on his cock. You writhed madly in his lap, his arms twisting around you to hold you to him so you couldn’t escape. The climax made your every muscle burn and burn and burn from within. Loki drank down your whimpering cries until they subsided, but you knew you weren’t out of the woods yet.

In a swift, nimble little movement, he switched your positions, pressing you down into the exam table and shoving your thighs wide apart for him. He planted his hands on either side of your head and plunged back into you, fucking you roughly, his harsh breaths in your ear only turning you on even more as he rutted into you like a wild animal.

“Fucking hell,” he moaned out. “Oh, my sweet mortal, you are paradise.”

He fought your tightness until he could hold out no longer and came inside you with a sultry growl. You bucked up against his pelvis, too sensitive not to follow him as the flat, hard surface mashed into your clit. You moaned his name wantonly as he spilled into you recklessly, the liquid heat of his come scorching you through and through. He groaned and pushed your leg up higher to wrap around his waist, stroking your side down to your thigh, angling his cock as deep as he could get it to reach. He stayed inside you, gently thrusting, bringing you both back down to earth until you felt him softening.

Loki dropped his sweaty forehead onto yours, his wicked voice hoarse in your ears. “If all of Midgard’s healers are like you, then I think I shall like it here.”

A weak laugh escaped your lips. “Don’t bet on it, your highness.”

He kissed you, but softly this time. “That was a magnificent fuck, my dear. I think I speak for both of us when I say it was much needed.”

You shook your head, lamenting as the adrenaline started to drain away and the guilt filled you instead. “I am a sinner in the hands of an angry god.”

“Perhaps,” Loki murmured, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “But I will not forget this small mercy. This I swear to you, fair mortal.”

He kissed you a final time and then let you go. You both redressed and cleaned up in just enough time. Someone knocked on the door as you put Loki back in his handcuffs. He gave you a lingering look as they collected him, nodding to you over his shoulder before he disappeared out of the room. You knew that he was up to no good, but…you supposed it wasn’t your concern. You had done what you could.

You had patched him up, but in the end…it would be his choice to heal.

FIN


End file.
